


Mimosas

by porcelainmaps



Series: "there’s no one i’d rather be dancing with right now" (maxwell x mc) [1]
Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just a short piece, kiss, these two are so cute i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainmaps/pseuds/porcelainmaps
Summary: He tastes like oranges and she’s falling in love.Maxwell and MC sneak away from the ball to steal a few moments together alone.
Relationships: Maxwell Beaumont & Main Character (The Royal Romance), Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Series: "there’s no one i’d rather be dancing with right now" (maxwell x mc) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869931
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Mimosas

**Author's Note:**

> Your man smells like onion rings; my man tastes like oranges. We are not the same.
> 
> Hey, I'm @diamondsaregold on Tumblr! This is a short Maxwell x MC piece I wrote three years ago. No angst (and heck, no plot either)—just some wholesome fluff between our favorite dorks. Enjoy!

The sounds of clinking forks and soft orchestra filter away, as the laughing pair darts into the darkened hallway.

With her weight slung easily over one shoulder, he strides across the room, ignoring her shrieks of laughter and indignation.

“Put me down!” she pounds on his back (somewhat half-heartedly, of course). “Maxwell, I swear!”

Instead, he puts his free hand to his ear, a devilish grin on his face, as he clears his throat.

“Hello, Bertrand?” he says seriously, into his hand, as she giggles. “Yes, I found one annoying American with the words ‘Please return to Beaumonts if found’ taped to her back.”

“Excuse me, I’m not annoying!”

“She also won’t stop talking! Gosh, my head hurts already.”

Her following response is crass enough to make even Drake proud, but Maxwell simply laughs brightly and tightens his grip on her legs.

Not that she minds, of course.

When they approach her bedroom door, he gently sets her down and spins her around to face him.

“Here you are, my lady,” he drawls in a voice that is much too low and gravelly for Maxwell, while dipping down to brush a kiss across her hand.

This time, the flush on her face is most certainly not feigned.

“And before you ask, yes, I do take tips,” he murmurs with a cheeky grin. His smile, lopsided and boyish, is one of her favorite things about him. Among, of course, the many other items on the list that make her feel like she’s glowing gold when she’s around him.

Like his eyes—clear and cerulean as the ocean pools, as if daring to her to step closer. To submit herself entirely to the whim of the unpredictable.

Immediately, her gaze darts to his lips. His smile grows.

“Very well then, Lord Beaumont.”

When she presses her mouth gently against his, she can’t help but think that risk has never been quite this sweet.

She can feel him murmuring sweet nothings, as he wraps his arms around her waist. The waves are crashing, receding, and she twines herself closer and closer to him.

After a few moments, she pull away with a shy smile, tries to hide the giddiness that’s about to take over.

“I’ll see you later, Maxwell?”

Just as she’s about to open the door knob and bring this perfect night to a close, he suddenly grasps her arm.

Only for a brief instant does she catch the fire, the _need_ , in his gaze before his mouth is on hers again.

The blaze is urgent, utterly unrestrained.

He slides one hand forward to tilt her chin up, pushes her up hard against the wooden door. His mouth is molten lava, burning trails up her neck, along her jaw, across her burning lips.

As his hands dance artfully across her waistline, she tastes citrus on his lips—probably from the mimosas, she notes hazily, amid her wobbly legs, that they had enjoyed at earlier.

Before she had gained the liquid courage to tug him by the lapels and move outside. Before he had scooped her into his arms, and sauntered away from the party. Before she listened to his breaths quickening in sync with his echoing steps, in anticipation of the crackling desire that she so desperately wanted to let spark.

When they part, he is the one with a bashful smile.

“I’ll see you later, my lady?” he inquires, hope gleaming in his soft voice.

“You say it like it’s a question.” His eyes sparkles, and it feels they’re back in the glittering ballroom, dancing in golden circles around each other.

Waltzing, swaying, and falling in love to the beat of his heart all over again.

“So…?”

“Yes. Yes you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> (And thus began Mags' love affair with doors.)
> 
> Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr @diamondsaregold. Take care everyone. <3


End file.
